


Legacy

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Arguing, Charles Lee was married to a Mohawk Indian, Children, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Legacies, Slice of Life, relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8894254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: In 1753, when serving in the French & Indian War, Charles Lee married a Mohawk Indian princess. She had two children. During the York Campaign, his wife makes an appearance in camp and publicly fights with him. Washington watches on with great curiosity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Charles Lee married the daughter of a Mohawk chief in the F&IW in 1755. He had twin children. I'm saying a daughter and son for the sake of the fic. No one knows his wife or children's names. He purchased a captain's commission in 1756 and left them. So far as I can tell from his biographies, he never saw them again. 
> 
> A woman would have had to been of a very particular type to marry Charles, and it shows when her son goes off to fight like his father. I imagine she would have had none of that shit, so she shows up to yell at Charlie. 
> 
> The Mohawk Indians called Charles Lee "Ounewaterika" which means Boiling Water, a reference to his bad temper.

Washington watched over the lip of his pewter cup as his second-in-command stormed through the mess tent, coattails snapping behind him. Alexander chattered away at his side, but Washington’s attention lingered on Charles. He’d always been a force of nature, but something seemingly had riled him up worse than usual. They had been at the Jersey and York Campaign for many a month, and yet, Washington had not seen Lee so incensed. The man practically radiated anger.

The Commander in Chief raised an eyebrow when a woman of dark skin, clad in traditional Native dress, stalked through the tent at Lee’s heels. She was speaking in low tones to him, but carried the air of all a woman scorned. An errant soldier stepped from her path as she followed Lee through the tent. He appeared on his way to procure lunch.

Arriving at the table carrying food, he snatched up a plate and began to serve himself meat and potatoes. The woman stood at his elbow, looking up into his face and scowling at him. He turned to rebuke something she said. Washington felt an itch to know what they were saying. Alexander spoke on. Gently, he hushed Hamilton, eyes drawing a line to Lee and the Indian woman. Hamilton followed his gaze and said, “Oh,” very softly.

Her voice rose slightly. Washington thought he caught the word _child_. It piqued both he and Alexander’s interests. They shared a brief look between them, then returned to candidly watching the scene unfold. The woman said something else, and Lee slammed his plate down and shouldered past her to stomp away.

The woman drew herself up to her full height and shouted at his back, “They are your _children_ , Charles! And I am your _wife_! You will not speak to me as if I am some common harlot!”

Lee paused mid-step, back straightening. Washington focused on the point between his shoulder blades, wishing he could see the look on Charles’ face. The tension was visible. Hamilton whistled very slowly. The tent went quiet. Soldiers taking their lunch turned to appraise the situation. The woman’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

Lee did not turn, instead, speaking over his shoulder in a tone cold and weary. “You are not my wife. Your father made that perfectly clear when he demanded I take leave from Monongahela.”

“You took a Captain’s commission and abandoned us!” The woman—Charles’ wife—snapped back.

She approached him, rounding him to stand before him and look him again in the face. “Your son has followed your legacy and is fighting. He has gone off to war.” She took a low breath, then reached up to touch Charles’ cheek. The General visibly shied away. “Write him and tell him to come home.”

Charles softened momentarily, a sour mix of pride and guilt playing across his expression, then drew himself back up. “He is not my son.”

“He carries Lee blood in his veins. My father may have sent you away from the tribe but you are still our _Ounewaterika_.” She said gently, caressing his cheek.

Lee took a step back, removing the contact between them. He was very aware of the eyes of his fellow soldiers on him. “That hardly matters now.”

The rebuttal was weak, and his wife took it in stride. “Your daughter has married. When this war is through, you must come meet your son-in-law.” She paused, taking his hand. “My father is ill. You are husband to daughter of the Chief, Charles Lee. Your place is with the tribe.”

Washington felt like anyone who looked at him could see the astonishment on his face. Lee was married to a Mohawk princess? An impressive feat for the pugnacious man. Hamilton made another low noise of surprise at Washington’s side.

Lee plucked his hand from her grasp, only to place it on the small of her back, urging her from the tent. Lunch, it appeared, could wait. The woman snatched it back and curled their fingers together, taking the lead and drawing Charles away. Lee followed obediently.

Washington turned to Alexander, a wry little smile on his face.

“What was _that_?” Hamilton demanded, grinning back. “Lee’s married?”

“The General is an enigma.” Washington answered lowly, returning his attention to his lunch. “There are many things we don’t know about him. He is married with children, apparently, being one of those things.”

“Who the hell would marry Lee?”

“A strong woman.”

Alexander snorted with laughter, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve never seen any wife yell at her husband like that, except Mrs. Adams at John.”

Washington smiled fondly. “You have not had the pleasure of encountering Martha when she is in a foul temper.”

Alex laughed again. Washington wondered what else he didn’t know about Charles, then decided it wasn’t worth fussing over. The man despised him. They would never be closer than colleagues. He would never unravel the mystery Charles had wound about himself.


End file.
